


I Must Go, Uncertain of My Fate

by austenfan1990



Series: The Sea Captain and the Governess [1]
Category: The Sound of Music - Rodgers/Hammerstein/Lindsay & Crouse
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Don't copy to another site, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:07:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/austenfan1990/pseuds/austenfan1990
Summary: He is feeling something he hasn’t felt in a very long time; a sense of unpreparedness, of uncertainty. Matters of the heart always rendered him thus. It is confirmation that he’s utterly and helplessly in love.My take on what went through Georg's mind before he found Maria at the gazebo.
Relationships: Georg von Trapp/Maria von Trapp
Series: The Sea Captain and the Governess [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811752
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	I Must Go, Uncertain of My Fate

Even in the wake of Maria’s unexpected return from the abbey, Elsa insists upon changing for dinner. The children – even Kurt – are far too happy to complain about the delay.

Up in his room, their father usually relishes these moments of solitude, the careful re-armouring of his steely façade. But tonight Georg is distracted and his armour not quite so robust. He reaches for his jacket draped across the back of his chair. The dark fabric falls to the floor, slipping through his unusually clumsy fingers.

‘Get a hold of yourself, man.’

He catches his reflection gazing sternly back at him. His room feels lonelier than ever.

It’s a strange thing; losing control over himself, over his life. He thought he’d lost it after the death of his wife, the anchor of his being. In hindsight, that was nonsense. There were in fact seven other anchors, each just as precious, only he’d been too blind to see it.

Instead, and for years, an illusion of control was scraped back through whistles, orders and uniforms.

_‘They have uniforms.’_

_‘Straitjackets, if you’ll forgive me.’_

His own jacket feels positively constrictive as he heads downstairs. Laughter rises from below, from the direction of the dining room, and his mood lightens with it. These days he hears the children long before he sees them, a gentle reminder of a life he was once close to losing forever.

Max, with the broadest of smiles, meets him at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Heard the news, Georg? Our dear Fräulein has returned, I’ve been hearing of nothing else these past ten minutes.’

A dull ache radiates from his chest. Georg can’t bring himself to return his old friend’s smile, no matter how his heart leaps at the mere mention of her. His feelings are too strong.

* * *

Franz tops up his glass more than usual, inevitably drawing Elsa’s curious glances. He ignores them all and talks even less. The children – bless them – more than make up for his lack of conversation.

He is feeling something he hasn’t felt in a very long time; a sense of unpreparedness, of uncertainty. Matters of the heart always rendered him thus. It is confirmation that he’s utterly and helplessly in love.

But his courage, so decorated by his country, is failing him. Because he doesn’t dare presume that she feels the same way, even when there is only a table between them, even when her eye briefly catches his, and he’s felled by the sheer intensity in her mournful gaze.

The navy had taught him that to be prepared for battle, as in life, one had to have everything planned out, even when the outcome is far from certain.

Well, he’s feeling far from certain tonight. No, he corrects himself at once, that is a lie. For he’s been unsure of himself ever since the night of the party. And now every passing second compounds the fact that proposing to Elsa last night had been a mistake, an act of foolish impulsivity. Had he but known _she_ would return…

Dinner comes to an end at last. He takes the stairs, two at a time. He needs some air.

* * *

It’s no use. No sooner does he reach the balcony, he sees _her_. The ache in his chest manifests itself again, the shape of it clearer in the dark, and he longs to cry out. But the urge seizes and just as quickly passes him, as it had when they had been alone on the back terrace.

_‘Please don’t ask me. Anyway, the reason no longer exists.’_

Where was the Maria that he had come to know? The one who had lectured and chastised him, the one who had encouraged him to rekindle his bond with his children? She was here, right in front of him, but also so very far away…

‘There you are!’

* * *

Alone again, Georg takes his time on the balcony, trying to gather his thoughts. This is not his finest hour, by any stretch. His mind is reeling, but one thing is certain: he must go down.

On his way, and in his haste, he nearly collides with Max on the landing.

‘What on earth’s happened?’ asks Max, with unusual sternness. ‘Elsa just passed me on the verge of tears. Don’t tell me you have anything to do with it.’

‘It’s a long story.’ He sighs, fingers drumming agitatedly against the balustrade. ‘Max, can you go talk to her? I would, but – well, I doubt she’d like to see my face again tonight.’

His friend regards him for a long moment. ‘Is this to do with Fräulein Maria?’

For the second time this evening, he is taken aback.

‘How did you know?’

Max chuckles, shaking his head. ‘Go to her, old chap. A gentleman should never keep a lady waiting.’ He sighs happily as he glances towards the large window behind them. ‘Oh, it’s a beautiful night for it, isn’t it?’

Georg raises a brow. ‘I think you’re forgetting about Elsa.’

‘Who says I’ve forgotten about her?’ says Max lightly, visibly bracing himself all the while.

* * *

He decides he will drive Elsa to the station himself tomorrow. It’s the least he can do.

But now, as he gazes across the lake from the exact spot where Maria had been, he looks up at the sky, blinking in the moonlight. He hasn’t done this in years.

‘Skies full of stars,’ he murmurs.

Max is right, it is a beautiful night. A faint breeze cuts through the stillness, wafting him gently towards the gazebo. He allows it to, making his way quietly across the grounds. The sight of her ethereal figure through the trees stops him in his tracks, his breath catching at her air of overwhelming sadness. In that moment, a surge of protectiveness washes over him and Georg vows to make her happy, regardless of what happens tonight.

He takes a deep breath and then another. He steps into view.

‘Hello.’

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from one of the most immortal passages in Jane Austen's _Persuasion_ (those who've read it will know which one!) while Georg calling his proposal to Elsa "impulsive" is based on a deleted line in Ernest Lehman's screenplay.


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